A door slammed shut behind her, jarring them out of the moment. Elizabeth jumped away from Alex, fighting his hold. When she looked around, Shelly glared back at her. “That sure didn’t take long.”
“Shelly—” Shelly spun around and went back down the stairs. Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. One stinking day. That’s all it had taken. One day and she was all over a guy. Like Dallas would have been. Like her mom would have been.
“Elizabeth—”
Shaking her head, she met his gaze and backed away. “I can’t.”
“Hey, we just kissed. The world may have rocked,” he smiled, all charm, “but it didn’t end. It’s okay.”
“I’d love for that to be true.”
His eyes took on a hopeful glow. She didn’t want to be the one to destroy that hope a second time. If she was braver, she’d circle the table between them, demand another kiss. Try to make all her dreams come true. His, too, if the light in his eyes meant anything.
She wanted to see if there was anything to this physical chemistry between them. The thought tempted her more than having functional bathrooms. But there were too many other things to consider.
Elizabeth looked at her empty hands. “I’m not looking for a relationship, Alex.”
“Sometimes, when we’re not looking …” he trailed off, his eyes gentle, coaxing.
She shook her head. “Alex—”
“I know.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “It’ll never happen.”
Elizabeth winced, the words haunting her. If she could be free to love, she’d want it to be with him, but not even Elizabeth could be cruel enough to tell him that.
Sadness moved like a poison through her system, burning her eyes, making her hands feel weak and heavy. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Alex smiled and raised a brow. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t give up that easily.”
Adad’s room was made of black stone, but instead of the darkness that pervaded the tunnels his chamber was lit by hundreds of beeswax candles, each a light in the darkness as he once was, though the spines of his wings were now only smoldering, blackened horns. The fallen Seraph stood before a tall wooden easel with thick pieces of parchment secured in the center.
With a stroke of his charcoal-smeared finger, he finished a sketch of Elizabeth. More of his drawings were scattered around the room and over a broad desk. Some held twisted trees with portraits hung from blackened, dead branches. Every member of Adad’s family was depicted.
“She sleeps lightly tonight, afraid to dream. I should be surprised you made it.” His deep voice vibrated around Silas, raising every hair, every feather.
“Yet, you aren’t.” Silas moved from the spot where he and Draven had appeared, closer to the sketches on the desk. “You were expecting us.”
Adad ignored the obvious statement and turned to Draven, eyeing the black cloak. “Hiding, Draven?”
“I could ask the same of you.” Draven’s rich voice answered clearly, unmuffled despite the enveloping cowl.
The fearsome black face softened and a terrifying smile stretched his lips. “I guess we have both chosen our prison.”
Silas focused on the drawings, memorizing every nuance. Information was necessary if they hoped to win.
Draven laughed. “It is hard to imagine you choosing a prison, Adad.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Adad laid his most recent sketch on top of the pile.
Silas tilted it toward himself. It depicted Elizabeth asleep, her head upon her mother’s hospital bed. Both women looked at peace, as though it were a final good-bye. It spoke of tenderness and love, and a forgiveness Elizabeth might not be capable of for a long while.
“My daughter has gilded it so well. It feels like home here.” Strangely, his tone held no sarcasm.
“Will you tell us how this happened? Or are we supposed to guess?” Draven moved from the shadows, the pretense of patience long gone. “You’ve known of our visit for a long time now. Are we really to waste time with secrets?”
“Will explaining help you aid my children?”
Silas raised his head and spoke. “We won’t know what knowledge we need until it comes time to use it. I’m sure you understand that.”
The fallen Seraph nodded, a small smile still twisting his lips. He lowered into a chair and lounged back. It should have made him less intimidating. It didn’t. “I was following the plan. I met Mary Beth while I was a soldier on leave from Vietnam.”
The plan? Silas looked toward Draven, who made a dismissive gesture. He’d have to wait for his answer.
“We married and Dallas was conceived. On another leave, Elizabeth. After I returned, before I came here—” He gestured to the chamber around him. “We conceived the twins. But, even from the womb, Elizabeth was different.”
“How so?” Draven glided to a wall of pictures and examined them.
“She reached out to me, even in the midst of battle. No matter my location, she always found me. She taught me the unconditional love of a child—a kind of love I hadn’t known since my fall. We bonded. She’s always known my true form.”
No matter how hard he looked, Silas couldn’t read Adad’s face, but his blue eyes glowed with both sadness and pride. He loved his daughter.
The Seraph rose to stand beside Draven. Silas joined them. Laid out in sequential order on the wall was a sketch of each major moment in his family’s life. Nothing was spared. It created a stark portrait of the Raineses’ slow disintegration.
“When I returned, I was a husband and father for a few years. Then the new visions came. Visions never gave me a reprieve, but these were different.” He made a sweeping gesture that indicated all of the charcoal drawings. “Each portrait was finished weeks, if not years, before the actual events took place.”
Adad glided to the desk. He tossed all the drawings Silas had studied into the air and, as if hung from an invisible clothesline, they hovered in place.
“My family is cursed. My wife, my children, my children’s children.” Adad closed his eyes and turned away, the images no doubt fixed in his mind. “There is only one way it can end. I see that now, though when the visions first came, I thought leaving would alter the tragedies, allowing me the chance to return and fix what was broken.”
Silas began at the sketch on the wall that showed Adad leaving and Mary Beth’s pain as both Dallas and Elizabeth watched. The next depicted Elizabeth sleeping while a small area at the top right showed Adad in a chamber that looked the same as this one.
“The first few I burned after I drew, in the living room fireplace. I didn’t want to leave my family, but that’s what the visions were telling me would happen. When I came here, the pictures were on the walls. Elizabeth had seen them and, even at five years old, she’d remembered them.”
Five years old. The third sketch was Elizabeth, her tiny arms around her father’s charcoal legs. Her eyes were wide, sad, and scared, tears beginning to spill over her lashes. A bubble above them both said, “Daddy, please don’t go.”
“She found me, captured me, and wouldn’t let me go.” Adad’s vibrant blue eyes met Silas’s. “Even an angel can die in a mortal way if his soul is separated from his body long enough.”
“You could have fought free,” Draven reminded him.
“Love is powerful, Draven. As you will someday learn.” Adad returned to his chair. “My daughter’s love for me was complete. I could not destroy her, as a fight for freedom would have done.”
“Because you loved her in return?” Draven’s words cut across the chamber, disbelief obvious in the dark voice.
Adad raised his eyes to the cowled cloak. “Even evil can love, Draven. I was created with the best example of parental love possible. That’s not something easily forgotten. The love of a child, in this fallen world, is the closest I’ll ever come again to that perfect feeling.”
Draven turned away from him.
“Is there no hope for redemption, then?” Silas asked.
> Adad turned to Silas. “Repent. Beg forgiveness. Live the rest of your days according to the conscience we’ve all been given, though some ignore it. And pray that when your day is done, you will be redeemed. That is your hope, Silas.”
“And what hope does your family have, Adad?” Draven asked. “How can they break the curse? How did it even begin? Not all demonically begat dynasties suffer this.”
Adad laughed, booming and loud. “Demonically begat?”
Draven emitted an irritated sigh. “You know what I mean.”
Silas grinned and turned away from them both.
Adad sobered. “How did your curse begin?”
“Maeve.” Draven whispered the name. “But why curse you? She didn’t know—”
“She didn’t trust. Anyone. It’s not beyond her to place a curse on me that wouldn’t take effect unless I betrayed her.”
“A thousand years later?”
“A blink of an eye.”
“You waited that long to begin your plan?”
“I follow my visions.” Adad pointed and both Silas and Draven turned to see a fireplace with a wedding portrait of a tall, auburn-haired soldier with vibrant blue eyes and his blonde and delicate teenaged bride. A golden plaque at the bottom read:
CHARLES ASTOR RAINES • MARY ELIZABETH RAINES
OCTOBER 16, 1972
MAY GOD BLESS THEIR LOVE FOREVER.
Silas folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the desk, facing them. “So what is this plan?”
Adad looked to Draven, amusement shining in his eyes. “He’s your partner, Draven. He deserves to know.”
Draven’s arms crossed, leather gloves fisted tight. “Think, Silas. First, Maeve chose a human husband and bore a child. Now you see him,” a gloved hand indicated Adad. “With four children and ten grandchildren. But why marry? Fallen angels have borne children without marriage many times over. That’s what created most of our race. Many married in the beginning, out of love, guilt, or hope of absolution, but why now? Because of love? I think not.”
A low growl vibrated the chamber. “Do not judge my heart, Draven. That is not for you.”
Draven nodded to Adad. “My apologies.”
Silas raised both brows. Draven knew how to apologize? Respectfully?
Draven continued. “Many of my kind believe that it is only marriage that will create a completely human-looking child. Maeve wanted her son, Kai, to rule both Europe and eventually the rest of our world. Others, though, have different things in mind.”
Adad nodded at Draven’s words. “Once, humans flocked to anyone with the least bit of power. They worshipped the fallen ones as gods and goddesses. We were able to rule our own kingdoms, either singly, or as part of a pantheon, like the Greeks and Romans.”
Silas nodded. “I know this.”
Adad acknowledged his words, but continued. “The entire world changed when Jesus came. New gods were not created after him. Only newer names linked with very old ones were given any credence. Who would believe in them? Fallen ones could not rule an ever-shrinking globe with ever-expanding means of communication. But humans could. Our children could.”
Silas straightened, frowning.
Adad raised one brow. “Think about it. One human can change the entire world, the most notable example being Hitler. Now, imagine an entire family raised by a fallen one. What damage could they inflict?”
“My God,” Silas whispered.
“Precisely.” Adad nodded.
Silas scowled. “Draven, what have you gotten me into?”
Draven shrugged. “I love how I get blamed for this.”
Silas glared at Adad. “Just what were you planning to do with this power?”
“Despite what Maeve desired, I merely wished to balance the scales.”
“How?”
“By sending Draven to you.” Adad’s eyes glowed a fiercer shade of blue. “The rest of the future is for me to know and you to find out.”
Silas grimaced. “What do Draven and I have to do with your plans for your children?”
Adad ignored his question, turning instead to Draven. “You will not stay hidden forever.”
“But long enough,” was the husky reply.
Adad shook his head. “You must leave now. Elizabeth is tired.”
Chapter Ten
Elizabeth pressed her cheek to the door, tears of exhaustion and fear sliding down her face. She didn’t have the strength left. Not after such a long day. She’d barely dozed and she was so tired. Alex was her addiction, her fantasy, and without him she couldn’t sleep.
Maybe tomorrow she could start earlier. Build another room. Create another fantasy. Maybe tomorrow she could give Alex up.
Maybe tomorrow she could remember all the reasons they couldn’t be together. Just not tonight. Not right now. Elizabeth rose from the stone floor and eased silently into their room, into their bed. Alex rolled over. His strong arms surrounded her bare, chilled skin and pulled her closer to his heat.
“Hey, you made it,” he rumbled against her ear.
“Hey,” Elizabeth whispered back, burrowing into his toasty heat. “I couldn’t think of any place I’d rather be than cuddled up next to you.”
“Sounds good to me.” His voice held a smile as he pulled her closer, his hard naked body burning into her from head to toe.
Elizabeth slid one bare leg along his as he nuzzled her neck. When his hand stroked down her side and over her back, she laughed huskily. What was sleep compared to this?
Alex tightened his hold, crushing her against his chest. Lowering his mouth to her neck, he trapped some of the sensitive skin between his teeth and licked. She exhaled a shaky breath and arched back to give him better access.
His hot, rough hand wrapped around an ankle and slid up her calf, widening over her thigh. Elizabeth moaned, wet and aching and ready.
Alex pushed her thighs wide and she arched even more, pressing her breasts to his chest. His right hand slid under her head as he settled his hips in her embrace. How could she possibly give him up?
Elizabeth brushed his hair back, using both hands to hold it away from his eyes so she could stare into them as he entered her. He was hard and thick where she needed him so intensely, sliding and filling every gap in her body and heart. She nearly cried out. His lips smiled ever so slightly.
He loved when she responded to him like this. And she wanted to give him anything that kept him looking at her with such devotion and pleasure. He thrust with just enough force to curl her toes and steal her breath. Elizabeth opened further to him, stretching her thighs wide to entice him closer.
Was giving him up even an option anymore?
She was beginning to think not.
Her mother’s bedroom window showed it was still dark outside when Elizabeth woke. Stretching and running a hand over the cool sheets, she was surprised when nothing impeded her reach. Blinking her eyes open, she forced herself to be honest. She was disappointed to awaken and not find Alex beside her.
With her body aching like it was, craving a real touch instead of imagined ones, she’d never return to her dreams. She’d suffered this enough to know what it would take to alleviate her tension, but she’d left all those toys in Seattle.
Elizabeth crawled from between the sheets, made the bed, and dressed. She peeked in the other bedrooms and counted eight sleeping kids before tiptoeing down the stairs with a smile on her face.
For the first time in a month, she made a pot of coffee to enjoy the morning with. Even starting on the endless laundry didn’t have the same overwhelming, depressing feel in the dark coolness of early morning. Pulling bacon out of the freezer, she set it to defrost as she made a triple batch of pancake batter. She wouldn’t cook them for another two hours or so, but now she was prepared.
Still tingling all over, she poured herself a cup of coffee and carried it to the front porch. The breeze was a bit chilly, but she was warm enough to love the way it caressed her skin. Sitting on the top step,
Elizabeth stared into the darkness.
The moon barely shone through the tall pine and chestnut trees that filled the neighborhood, leaving everything shadowed and mysterious. In the moonlight, the imperfections in the house and yard weren’t so glaringly apparent. With a bit of love and care, the beauty of her childhood home would be unmistakable.
This building had housed four generations of her family, through good times and bad. Her grandfather had actually helped build it. Her grandparents were the first to move in when the house was brand new. It was a big home, with room for lots of children, but they’d only had Mary Beth. Not that they’d been disappointed.
Eventually, Mary Beth had given them grandchildren. Until the day each grandparent had died, they’d slathered love and attention on Dallas, Elizabeth, and the twins, Bobby and Felicia. Elizabeth looked around and allowed the atmosphere to seep inside her. This house, her grandparents, they both deserved this family to become whole again. And for once, she felt hopeful that it could be done.
She had a project that would pay well and not end anytime soon. The children were together and happy. Her siblings still had problems though. Bobby was locked up, Felicia gone, and Dallas in the midst of a passionate new relationship. Her mom wouldn’t be around much longer. There were still many things to pain them, to pain her, but the children would be fine. She’d make sure of that. They were her first priority.
Elizabeth sipped her coffee and nearly spit it through her nose as she watched a familiar truck pull to a stop in front of the house. Alex and Geoffrey stepped out of the cab and walked up to her. Elizabeth rose to her feet and stared helplessly at Alex. She hadn’t expected to see him so soon, certainly not after a dream like hers. She could already feel heat climbing into her cheeks. What the hell time was it, anyway?
Geoffrey stopped at her side, and raised a brow in query. “Coffee?”
“Kitchen,” she said, barely sparing him a glance.
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